


Stay in Your Coma

by slushieSkank



Category: OFF (Game)
Genre: POV Second Person, mildly headcanon indulgent, more like majorly headcanon indulgent tbh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-22
Updated: 2014-09-22
Packaged: 2018-02-18 09:07:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2342909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slushieSkank/pseuds/slushieSkank
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Stay in your coma,” the voices encourage gently, tenderly. And you want to listen to them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stay in Your Coma

**Author's Note:**

> http://grooveshark.com/#!/search?q=stay+in+your+coma
> 
> I wrote this in like 20 minutes.

“Stay in your coma,” the voices encourage gently, tenderly. And you want to listen to them.

At first, a searing pain in your head, though it fades just as quickly as it came, leaving in its wake only a faint, dull aching, something you can ignore and tuck away into the back of your mind. You don't open your eyes yet because you're still not fully aware that you have eyes. A soft groan escapes you, and you shift in place slightly, becoming aware all at once of the entirety of your body, including your eyes, along with the position of all of your limbs, the fact that wherever you are you seem to be laying on your chest, and the fact that something soft is pressed against the top of your head.

You open your eyes just a hair, enough to peer out from beneath the lashes, but shut them again when you realize that wherever you are is as black as the inside of your skull. Instead, you take the time to take stock of your body, and try to puzzle things together from there. “Stay in your coma.”

You're laying, as you previously determined, face down, although the ground(?) beneath you is neither hard nor soft, neither comfortable nor uncomfortable. Your left arm is thrown above your head and pinned underneath something heavy. Your right arm is sprawled out carelessly to your side, fingertips pressing against your chin, with your elbow resting on something thin and hard. You open one eye slightly, and are greeted with the sight of Omega, flat on the ground under your arm, glowing, very faintly, and pulsing slightly. Ah. That's a good sign. It's not dead, then. Your eye closes again and you sigh softly.

“Stay in your coma.”

Continuing on your stock taking, you move down to your legs. Neither of them seem to be broken, the left one simply resting straight. The right one is bent at the knee, something pressing against your shin, probably another Add-On. You undertake the herculean task of turning your face to look over your shoulder, lift your impossibly heavy head to peer out at it, and spot Alpha, stirring in place before settling in, around your knee and under your thigh.

You go to stretch and are reminded, when you can't move, that something is pinning your arm down. It must be the Batter, you reason. Lifting your head, once again, you open your eyes partway and gaze him up and down. He's laying on his back, hat askew, sprawled out ungainly, and Epsilon is resting against his other side, soft glow lighting his outline enough for you to make him out.

“Stay in your coma.” You wiggle yourself forward just enough to rest your head on his stomach and breathe out, settling in and relaxing. The tension drains from your muscles all at once as you take comfort in his familiar presence, breathing in his safe smell, enjoying the way the cloth of his jersey feels against your cheek.

“Stay in your coma. Stay in your coma.”

The voices speak the words over and over again, a quiet chant, a soothing lullaby, drawing you back under the heavy blanket of unconsciousness. You're comfortable, you're aware of where all the members of your party are, and as far as you can tell, you're safe. This place, wherever this place is, seems to pose no threat, house no spectres, and you're in no rush to get going. Perhaps you'll take their advice, sleep a little while longer. There's no need to get up and do anything right now, after all. It can wait. The world can wait. Everything can wait. Your eyes ease closed, one final time, and, content among the only beings you care about, the ghost of a smile graces your mute lips as you surrender yourself once more to sweet, loving nothingness.

“Stay in your coma.”


End file.
